Page 16 of Hunt

7

Itook a sip of black coffee and gazed out at the view of the city in my new apartment as the sun rose over the horizon, and all I could think about was her. Fuck it. Mikky put the foot down and ordered that we don’t touch Petra, I mean, Riley, but Gunner lasted five seconds before he wrangled her to squeeze his balls. Fuck him.

She slipped away after her shift before I got a chance to speak to her, and I have no idea where Gunner disappeared to. I was close to messaging her and asking if she’d like to go for a swim, but she’s probably asleep since it’s just after 6 a.m.

The front door unlocked and Gunner ambled in, hood over his head, black on black, looking shifty as fuck. When I moved out of Mikky’s apartment, I gave him a key so he could stay here instead of the frat house, which he said he hated staying in because he didn’t trust his roommates. That’s not surprising since Gunner didn’t trust anyone who wasn’t family.

“Glad you’re up,” he said, slamming the door, which made me shudder. That door bang was too loud for this early in the morning.

“I didn’t sleep,” I told him. “Where have you been all night?”

“Parked outside Riley’s dorm,” he confessed. “So, I didn’t sleep either.”

“You didn’t go into her room?” My jealousy rose again. Fuck, this situation was pissing me off. I wanted my selkie back.

“Well…” he rummaged through the kitchen cupboards searching for food, then opened the refrigerator and groaned when he found it mostly empty. “What the fuck do you eat?”

“There’s a grocer and breakfast bar downstairs,” I explained, “They open at 6 am and I was waiting…anyway did you fucking go into her room?” My temper rose, and it only irritated me that I was getting angry over a girl.

“No. She wouldn’t let me in,” he mumbled, and I smiled. “Here.” I found a fifty-dollar bill in my pocket and tossed it on the coffee table. Go get us some breakfast.”

“Fine,” he grunted, striding over to me, smelling like he could do with a shower and plenty of soap. Fuck, what the hell Riley see in this guy? But then some girls like obsessive men until the novelty wears off. “Bacon and eggs?”

“Yeah, and pancakes. Coffee. Black.”

“You’ve got a coffee in your hand,” he pointed out. “And an expensive coffee machine on the bench.”

“I want one of theirs. No, get me two,” I demanded as the coffee in my hand, although strong, wasn’t giving me the hit I needed to seize the day, which included attending two classes, working on an assignment, and then working my shift at the club until midnight. Life would be easier if I could quit college and throw all my energy into the club, but the Kaiser Trust, courtesy of Lars Kaiser himself, paid my school fees, so I couldn’t let them down. But fuck, it got tiring at times.

“Alright,” he said as he lifted his underarm and took a whiff, then cringed. “I’m just gonna apply some deodorant.”

“Good idea,” I chuckled as he unzipped his bag and slathered on some shit that stunk like sandalwood or something.

“I’ll be twenty minutes,” he told me as he slammed the door shut. I was steeped in silence as my eyes grew heavy while I watched the orange-glowing sunrise, thinking about the last few days. The things I discovered about Petra are now Riley. The cop in her dorm room, who our private investigator said was an officer enlisted in the Larsson Police Department.

Every stone Danny Lam unturned to find that evidence of Lars’ murder was erased, destroyed, or mysteriously gone missing. Undoubtedly, the police were behind this, but what do we do about that? Even if we had a ton of evidence to prove that police members were behind it all, we can’t bring down the entire Larsson Police Department for corruption. And we sure as fuck can’t organize a hit on the guilty, as they’d know who was behind it. So, what were our options?

The world quickly turned black as I stewed over our dilemma, and I didn’t wake again until I heard the door unlock, and the scent of salty bacon struck my senses.

“Bro,” his voice cautious.

“What?” I looked up at him with blurry eyes as he placed the brown paper bag on the coffee table before me. Then, he stalked to the window and cast his eye downward. “What are you looking for?”

“I think I’m being followed,” he said, then pulled away from the window, headed back to the door, and opened a crack to peer through. He closed it quietly and hooked all the chains as confusion swelled, urging me to gaze out the window to see what he was looking for.

The apartment was on the fourth floor, so we weren’t so far up that it was difficult to see people walking along the pavement and cars parked along the road.

“Anyone there?” I asked him after he had bolted the chains.

I ordered extra locks when I moved in just because of who we were, so I knew the day would come when the fuzz assigned a watcher 24/7 to catch us in the act of doing something. They’ll wait a while, as I was always clean, even when dirty.

“Nah, a cop came in while I was waiting for our order and sat in the corner acting like he was waiting for a coffee when he never ordered one. Shesh, they need to get better at acting normal,” he explained, pressing his forehead against the window. “Stand out like a fucking clown nose on a dog.”

I shrugged my shoulders and took my coffee cup out of the bag. “Don’t worry about it, Gunner. They’re always hanging around like a bad smell. Here, have some breakfast. It’ll get cold.”

“The metallic blue SUV with blackened windows is your man,” he pointed out.

“A blue SUV?” I screwed my face up. “That doesn’t sound like a cop.”

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